Bessa

Interludes

Laughter

Blistered shoulders.

Raw bitten skin is rubbed to the bone by the weight of the pack.

The Savage has no complaints, nothing can wipe away his smile when he opens the front door for us to go through.

"I'm going to take Odin out of his carrier, then you can take off your pack." He gently takes out the sleeping pup whose stomach has bloated because he's been nursing at will while we walked the long walk home.

He's got a full diaper and milk stained lips.

Odin is left on the floor by the stove, where the Savage's sleeping furs are being un-rolled into a bed for our Male.

"I'm going to help you with the straps." Fingers hook up underneath the knots to pull loose the rope. A sigh of pain escapes when it's moved too much on skin that holds the test of the journey home. Gently, he places the pack down on the floor, a quickly put together pack without the proper paddy has left my shoulders the same as the Savage.

Raw blistered.

It starts with his eyes on me.

We were constant companions on the walk back. Nothing separating us on our march forward.

Fingertips hover over the angry skin, a kiss placed on each shoulder.

"It won't take long for these to heal." He doesn't step away.

"We should put everything away." Looking up into his eyes.

"We should," he doesn't move. I don't either.

Green eyes on mine.

There seems to be no rush between us.

Magnetic, dangerous, his smile curves the line of his lips.

The ribs of my chest stutter themselves closed. They don't achieve that tightness that I'm used to.

"I'll start to unpack," again saying this but no movement. I'm stuck in my spot. The pad of his thumb traces the pulse of my neck. Pushing in at times.

A swaying shift of my legs.

The Savage's eyes are green, a particular green that shines.

Shivering it's not cold. It's hot, scorching.

Blinking, he gets closer.

Weakness rises.

Bending his head, lips touch lips. Not long, just enough to let me know there could be more, there should be more. But not yet, not now. A promise is felt within the way he allowed his tongue edge between my lips before pulls away to kiss my cheek, jawline.

"It's good to be home." The feel of his words is pressed against the hollow of my neck.

"It's good to be home." Wrapping my arms around his back, holding him the way he's holding me.

This doesn't seem hard.

"We need to unpack." Reluctance is felt humming within him - solid mass that doesn't want to move from his spot.

I want to say we could wait to unpack, we could just hug like we are doing, but I swallow them down instead, shrugging my shoulders saying, "we should, Odin will be up soon. He needs a bath before he can eat." Smelling, he stinks. I must stink.

"Let's start with your pack. The herbs need to be put in the glass jars, make sure that the lids are tight when you put them on the counter. I'll put them up on the top shelves the ones we won't use for now." The late afternoon slides into the low light of evening.

We work side by side. A nudge to my shoulder at times from him. A playful shove from me when he gets too close.

This is not uncomfortable. Not awkward.

Side eyes, find his torso when he stretches his arm up to put the herbs away when he puts the grains held in glass jars away. Everything gets unpacked spread out on the floor.

Inventory counted.

The Savage holds a slight frown.

"What is it?" An anxious edge hovers outward. Odin starts to cry.

"We will have to ration a lot of this."

"What do you mean?" No concealment of the turmoil that's freezing my breathing.

"Bessa, it will be alright." Confidence settles in his structured words.

"We have enough, just enough to see us through the winter. I'll have to go on a few hunts away from here to bring back the meat. We'll be fine." He doesn't hesitate that he thinks we'll be fine. There is no uncertainty with him.

Me, I'm starting to shake.

"We can't starve if we starve my milk will go away. I won't be able to feed Odin." Picking him up, he's so upset. Mad even that he woke up without a nipple near his mouth. The summer grounds and long walk have spoiled him.

"Bessa, listen to me. I will not let that happen to you. What I'm saying is that there was not enough brought home to eat like last winter. We can't waste, we will have to be strict with how we use the grains. The meat will be more than we need after the hunt. But all our grains, roots, herbs will have to be watched. I'll do the all the cooking."

"Why you?"

"Because I'm better at rationing then you are." The ways it's said is teased, tickled out in a soft, pleasing sound.

"I'll start the water," Borson walks into the bathroom, letting the water run.

Odin is upset; I have to feed him first before anything else can be done with him. We are in his routine. Which need to be broken into the house routine.

When he's finished nursing, it's bath time, the Savage and I take turns washing his body. Cleaning him. Borson laughs at Odin, and for the first time, Odin opens his toothless mouth laughing with his father.

The Savage and I look at each other, and we laugh with our Male. His legs are kicking, his arms are flapping, and we all are smiling with laughter.

This is how it should always be, just this, just this moment.

*

*

*

Turning

Greens roamed all over my face.

It's as if he is physically touching me with his sight.

He swallows, I watch his throat move.

"What?" Asking, while feeling the creeping

"Nothing," bending his head, concentrating on butchering the animal.

Odin is on a fur, on the ground. Watching his father with keen eyes.

A crisp bite in the air makes me think that snow will come.

"Do you think it will snow today?' Looking up at the sky, a grey front is coming in.

...smiling.

"You're getting good."

His smile drags the corners of my mouth to meet his half way.

"Good?" Watching his hands work. Cutting the animal up in specific sections. It's a skill to butcher an animal of this size by himself.

"With the weather. It's going to snow in a few hours. The first storm of Winter." His hands don't stop as he looks right at me. He's not affected by the cold. Bare arms, torso only covered by the loincloth. His hair is pulled up in a knot. The sides shaved down to the skull.

His hands now still.

The rise and fall of his chest are becoming deeper, heavier.

"Should I not go to Eta's house today?" Looking up at the sky.

"I think you should be fine; it shouldn't be bad for a while. If it becomes of significance, then I'll walk you home." He stands, stretching out his back. The muscles tighten, relax underneath the canvas of skin that is splattered with blood and gore.

"Do you need help?"

Again, his smile pulls at my edges. Tugging the corners up.

"Not yet. Have a good visit. I'll take care of this." He takes a few more logs putting it on the fire that is raging as he burns some things that can't be eaten from the carcass.

He drops on all fours, mimicking his Wild.

Odin laughs. His head pulls up from the blanket.

Watching intently then laughing again.

A nose nudges his Male, sniffing before kissing him on the cheek with a goodbye.

He doesn't stop his mimicry as he nudges my leg with his forehead. A kiss placed on my thigh. A kiss placed on my hip, up my ribs. Pressing into the space between bone and cartridge. He keeps his mouth there, inhaling.

"I should go." Stepping away, slowly.

Odin gets picked up, and we walk away from the Savage and his work.

There is a drop in temperature as soon as we get to Eta's house. It's the same build as mine. The same structure outside but much different inside.

It's like Luki's house, full of color, life. Laughter can be felt within the walls.

"Luna Bessa, welcome."

Cheek to cheek.

Orva stands, reaching out to Odin but drops her hands quickly.

"Sorry, I forgot." Her voice trails downward, at the floor. She has seen the way the top of Odin's hands get stung red with the way the slap comes to them. His tiny fingers ball up in fists as he screams with pain.

Even at this young age, Odin now knows not to reach out to any female. He regards them with suspicion. The bringers of pain. He eyes them leery, with no smile to meet their faces. Punishment needs to be fast with stinging pain to his fingertips, to the top of his hands. If he touches a female that is not his family, even at this age. The pack will end him.

Borson's mother showed me on her Male.

"Hold out your hand, Borson." His mother said in a voice that is hard without any give to it.

The Savage was reluctant, a shift of his jaw. He didn't do it immediately. His breathing was becoming rapid, flightly. He stepped backward; fist clenched, jaw tight.

"Your hand." Demanding, her violence growing as each second passed with her Male not doing as she says.

When he put his hand out, there was a tremor to it. He couldn't hold it still. His eyes closed. The stinging force she used on him would leave skin red, raw if it weren't a canvas of ink that blots out the color of flesh. I don't think it hurt the Savage now; it's the memory of the pain I think what is happening. The former Luna instructed me that punishment has to be severe, so Odin stops reaching for things he has no business touching.

"If you love your Male then you will deliver the punishment without mercy because the pack will have no mercy on him."

A fear started because without a doubt; I believed what she said to me. The pack will turn on their Alpha if he touches the flesh of a female that isn't his mate. Only his mother or sisters or grandmother are allowed to touch him. To care for him, to hold him.

"That's how you teach Odin not to reach out with his hands." Her demeanor shifted to that of a caring mother instead of a mother who has lessons to teach.

"Why didn't you stop his eyes from reaching out?" My follow up question, that was rapid, without a thought.

"You cannot stop the eyes from reaching out, only the flesh." When she said this the Savage that night didn't even look at the bedroom with hopes of him sleeping inside with me. He understood on the hard march home that I was upset. He unrolled his sleeping furs by the fire, he did still say,"goodnight," I couldn't bring myself to say it and a few days after the Savage couldn't smile. His face mimicking mine.

The first time I had to do it, I cried into the Savage's chest. But as Odin learns not to reach out, the slap to his fingertips, his hands have gotten fewer. But when he does do it, the sting is becoming harder, with more pain to his tender flesh.

"Luna, are you alright?" Orva's eyes are wide and caring. Even while mourning for pup she has sympathy for others as if their burdens are greater than hers. Her smell is of pungent herbs, the tea she is drinking is all hers. Orva's throat holds the teeth marks of her mate. They want to induce her heat. Trick her body into something that it's not prepared for.

It's working, the pigment of her lips are deepening. Shifting from soft pink to the subtle hues of red.

"I'm alright, Orva. I was just thinking of how Borson's mother was showing me how to handle Odin when he reaches out to a female. Did you notice when you put your hands out to him he didn't reach back out?"

"I noticed." Orva looks upset.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't stand to see a pup hit. I watched Victoria getting hit all her life, and I can't stand it." Orva bristles up. "I made a pledge to myself that if I saw a pup getting hurt again when I was a full-grown, I would do something about it, but I can't stop you from doing that." Confliction rises within her.

"It's a necessity. He can't touch a female or else he dies. It's their rules that I am bound to follow. I don't want Odin destroyed because I didn't teach him properly. I will teach him the proper path." The last words are coming down hard within the walls of this house.

"We will help teach the females who have not been born in the Far North to understand that no hands will go out to him. He will have our protection.

The day is spent with us sharing tea, feeling Eta's rounded stomach. She will birth at the end of winter.

We share a meal, and I listen to how their lives were in the Eastern Pack. Victoria's name slips easily off their tongues. If I didn't know better, Victoria keeps her weapons close too. Her sides are protected by the castaways of the pack. Those are the most dangerous. Love the unlovable, and you will have their weaponry for the rest of your life.

"Loyalty has no price, no trade." My father's face comes back from all those years ago. He stopped working on his knives. Looking at me to set the point of his teaching into the bone of my sternum.

When the door is open, the blizzard is blowing away the landscape. The Savage is bundled in his furs. He never knocked or disturbed my visit. He waited patiently outside.

"Ready?" He takes Odin from my arms, tucking him inside his coat. Protecting him from the ice mixed with snow. Holding onto the Savage's coat with the gloves he brought me we walk into the deepening snow back home.

The fire is felt immediately as soon as we step inside. The smell of stew is more substantial than the warmth of the stove.

Odin is put down on the fur away from the stove.

Our furs come off to hang at the front door.

A bowl places in my hand, and he takes his own.

"Did you have a good visit?"

Swallowing what I just put in my mouth, "it was a good visit. I like them a lot. They hold kindness within them. Something that I want to have more of." Not looking at him when I say this. I want to become kind again.

He is focused on my syllables; each word seems important to him. He doesn't touch his food.

"You are kind, Bessa."

The spoon dips into the stew, swallowing down another mouthful.

"I'm going to try to live with kindness again." Still not looking at him, focusing on Odin who is trying to turn himself over from stomach to back.

Borson puts the bowl down on the ground. He's not able to hold it with the way he's shaking.

Greens shine.

His ear is turned to me, complete attention in everything I say to the breath I am taking into my lungs.

Odin turns on his back, for the first time.

The Savage picks him up, tossing him in the air. Pride.

"Did you see that?" A smile spread wide on both our mouths. Laughter, joy, pride is breathed out now.

"He did it as if it was easy." The Savage is full of boast about his Male. He lays Odin on his chest, and the Savage puts his head on my lap. Setting the bowl aside. Letting my fingers run through his hair that is loose and washed, Odin is happy. The Savage is happy, and in my heart I am happy.

This feels comfortable, easy.

"You were right, my Savage. There was something left besides the Fucking." Looking down on my family. Bending my head, kissing my mate. Not pulling away.

The ribs of my chest expand out, the tightness easing.

*

*

*

Crawling

A small amout of food is left on my plate.

I'm not as hungry as I used to be.

The Savage finishes what's left. Nothing is wasted in the long month of Night.

Sage coats everything within the structure of the home. Yesterday was the first time I understood how vital Sage is to ward off the Night. Nails scraping on the glass of the window. At first, I thought there was a pup lost outside in the blizzard. Going to the door, the Savage pulled me away with so much force I stumbled back landing on my ass.

"You can't open the door when he is here."

"Who is he?" Asking with a high pitch voice.

"He's the Night. The Moon's Right."

"What story is this?" He started to talk in hushed tones, eyes going to the window before a bundle of Sage is lit, smoking the place in a soft veil of white. He smudges the billowing smoke into the four corners of each room. Odin is next to take the properties of the Sage; then I get a dose before the Savage finally takes his with reverence. A hand is pulling the smoke towards his face. He bathed himself in the scent.

"The Moon's mate was Wulfram in the beginning, but her twin sister, Nature seduced him into marking and mating with her. Now he is condemned by the Moon to walk this world forever. She will not let him die."

"Can you kill him?"

"Nothing is strong enough to kill the Night. The Moon condemned him to wander."

"Why doesn't he take his own life with Silver. End his suffering?"

"Then he would never have any hope of seeing his Moon again. If you take your own life, you will be turned away forever from entering the Moon. You know this don't you Bessa?"

"I know that. You can't take your life. You must live the life the Moon has given you." Even the breeding whores never took their life, even though Silver was given to them. A test of Endurance. They had the belief that better things await them in the Moon.

"It's said that the Night will only be destroyed with a Warrior's death and so far, he has killed every single Warrior that has challenged him."

"He should have never betrayed the Moon, his Mate."

"You're right, Bessa. He should have never betrayed the Bond. Now he is paying the Moon's price for doing that." The conversation ended between us. Both our faces turned down at the lips.

The wind howls against the logs of the house. The cold kept at bay by the inferno of the fire.

Odin is on the floor, rocking his body back and forth on hands and knees. He wants the dull tipped spear the Savage made for him. Always out of his reach and no matter how much he cries for it, the Savage will not give it to him.

"Watch, Bessa." The Savage points his chin to Odin. His hand comes up, knee moves and he begins to crawl upright like a Wild. Mimicking his father in their longtime games of mimicry play.

We clap our hands together, praising Odin as he gets the toy spear, mouthing it. Bottom and front teeth are out.

"He has expert coordination for being a pup." Borson's words come out with the praise of a father towards a son.

"You're a good father, Borson." Touching the side of his face. His cheek turns into my hand. A kiss placed on the palm.

"There is no better mother for my pups."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes, I do mean that."

The ribs of my chest expand between the bone and cartilage. There is an ease to the breath of me now. It's getting easier to take a breath in.

*

*

*

Walking

The long Night gives way to the Light.

A celebration is held in the Longhouse. Food, lots of food is displayed on the tables.

Dancing.

The Savage and I dance while his mother holds Odin in her lap.

It feels as if it's just him and I.

The two of us, together, touching. Laughing with each dip, each spin, each toss in the air.

I don't want this to end. Within the music, I can stomp let my joyous sound out to spread around the pack.

Odin is sleeping by the time we leave.

Cheeks press against cheeks.

Everyone is hugged.

"I'm not that tired." Sitting on the couch, watching the Savage gently close the door to Odin's room.

"You aren't?"

"No," looking away, blushing.

"What would you like to do?" He's getting closer now. Kneeling between my legs.

I want to touch him.

The way he's looking at me bears weight, heavy. Inescapable.

"We could play cards?" His hips push my legs apart.

"I don't want to play cards."

"We could read together." Smiling. We just started doing that. Reading a chapter of the Old Ways book and talking about the meaning of the Moon's words.

"I don't want to read." Bolding looking at his lips.

His look at my mouth, my eyes, back to my mouth. The touch of his hand on the base of my back pulls me against him.

Taking me off the couch, laying me on the floor, by the furs of his bed.

The whispers of his breath tickle my neck while my mound takes the weight of his engorged cock.

The angle of my face is felt by his hand; it's me that leans into it. Kissing his palm now.

A kiss placed to my mouth, not soft, not hard.

Leaning into the kiss, wanting more.

My tongue on instinct moves against his. Our hips are grinding into the other.

The distance between us is limited only by the clothes we are wearing.

His heat, his smell becoming dangerous with the undeniable need within me.

Mark what's mine.

The Wild within sounding out her Nature.

His Nature sounds out in a chorus of short growls that vibrate into the bones of my chest that have become, wide now. Nothing is tight, nothing is felt but a heartbeat that is pounding with the rushing blood within it.

Shifting his body the slow roll of his hips grinds into the soft space between my wide legs.

His hand is going up my skirt, gripping into my bare thigh.

Breathing hard into his mouth, we both violently compete against who can feel the other more.

"It's bedtime."

"What?" He says. Tight. Breathless.

"It's time for bed." His body sags.

"Take me to bed," it comes out breathless, rushed.

Maneuvering himself with a quickness that I love about him. I'm in his arms carrying me to the bed. Placed down I scoot up.

Watching.

The mattress groans out with the weight of both our bodies shifting on the surface of it.

Hands go to his shirt, lifting it from his body.

A kiss placed in the middle of his chest.

Tasting his nipples. Tasting his skin with hunger that consumes the needs to be fed.

"Can I take off your pants?" Hands already on the button.

"Yes," more of a groan then a sound.

Unfastening with shaking hands. Letting the material slide down his waist. Exposing the blood engorged cock. My mouth is close; I can taste the drip of him.

He shifts himself, so his pants come off his body. Laying himself on his back, it's me who kneels. Exploring his flesh with my hands.

Skin against skin.

He feels warm, hot even. His chest is rising faster and faster as my finger traces the soft swirls of his hairline above his mound.

A moan from him, his hips shift slightly.

It's impossible to think that has been inside me. A deep aching need grips within the walls of my sex.

Catching my breath with his mouth, he pulls my head to his.

Kissing, soft, long, teeth pulling at lips.

He takes a long inhale as I grip him in my hand. Stroking him up and down.

"I like the way it feels," squeezing the shaft.

He groans I'm wet.

This is addictive, intimately satisfying to hold his pleasure in the palm of my hand.

"Am I doing it right?" his hips are moving with my hand. Riding the way I am pumping him up and down.

"Yes,"

The stalk of him throbs, I can feel it pulse in my hand.

Adding another hand, a deep moan from him now, eyes are closed.

His body is naturally responding to what I'm doing.

Fluid beading from his opening

Bending my head down, licking it with my tongue. His body jerks, trembles, his breathing pulling in from his lower abdomen, not his chest.

"Did that feel good?" Asking my question.

"Yes, it feels good."

It's then I feel his hand between my legs, fingers push into me, and I groan with the intrusion. Adjusting as he sinks the inside and out of me.

"Does that feel good, Bessa?"

Moaning, "yes." My hips are now riding his hand.

His other hand takes off my shirt. I'm bare to him, the skirt is next, and I have to let go of his length to help take off the Silk.

Hungry, desperate the Savage grabs my leg tossing it over his chest, pulling my spread legs up to his face.

Stiffening with the first swipe of his tongue, then relaxing my voice into a long drawn out sighing moan.

A body should not feel so good.

Taking him into my mouth, feeling the veins with the tip of my tongue the Savage stiffens, "Bessa," the way he says my names sounds as if he's in pain.

I'm moving as much as him, my hips shifting on his tongue, wanting more. His hips are shifting up into a fully open mouth.

The taste of salt licks into the base of my throat.

I can smell him all over me.

His thighs tremble, shake, a low growling moan comes from the base of his chest.

"Bessa, if you keep doing that I'm going to cum."

'I want to taste you, let me taste you." Pulling my legs wider apart, his fingers once again enter me, his mouth feasting on the nerve ending that is bringing animalistic grunting sounds out of the base of my chest.

Rubbing me with an assault of pure pleasure it's not long that I find myself clenching tight, barely able to suck his cock anymore as my head lifts up, eyes rolling back. My hand still moves around his girth, pumping him sporadically as the edge is meet on my end. It's approaching rapidly without the inability to stop.

His mouth is sucking me in with a tongue that is flicking, licking, presses against me.

The walls of my sex clench rhythmically around his fingers. I try to move away; the pleasure is too intense for my body.

With his breathing caught in his chest, hips angle upwards and for the first time up close I get to witness how a male cums. Long spurts of white come barely out his opening. Putting my mouth over him, swallowing him down.

His heart stops, I can feel the freeze of him. He can't even moan because his body has locked up with a traumatizing pleasure. It's so intense I can feel the edge of pain to it.

He pulls me around, to lay on his chest, the beat of his heart is once again thumping in his chest. His hand grooming the strands of my hair, "Borson," I'm hesitant. The breath of him hasn't come fully back, just like mine.

"Sleep in here with me tonight." Kissing the space above his heart. I can feel the scar I gave him with the scissors. I freeze with the memory, but memories should be put away when you have something solid holding onto you.

My ribs have settled back to where they were before meeting the Savage.

Comfortable in my chest.

*

*

*

Talking

"Bessa, something is going on. You're glowing." Luki sips over his tea while he practices his embroidery with cotton. There is no way he can hold Silk thread yet, but soon. His skills will surpass mine.

He's found a passion with the way he can master the flow of Silk.

"I'm happy Luki." Trying not to scream out. I want to tell someone how happy I am. Luki tosses his braids over his shoulder, a knee crosses over the other. I think he plucked his brows, but I have no proof. They look less bushy.

Odin is climbing all over his Uncle trying to play fight with him.

Growls of sound come from Odin's chest; he knows more words of the Wild then he does mama, dada, lulu.

"I'm happy," not telling him the details but wanting to discuss all the details about his brother without bringing a gag to his throat. I tried to ask him what Males like one day and he told me that isn't a subject that sisters and brothers should talk about together. So I've confided into Orva and Eta just to make sure that I have been taught right about the Male body and how to please your mate.

They are deviants at times, things I was never taught but now interested in trying with the Savage.

"You're enjoying life now, Bessa."

"I am, now hold still." The kohl around his eyes is thicker than I would wear but on Luki it makes it seems right. His long lashes are brushed with kohl to enhance the length. His cheeks hold the shimmer of soft peach, lips are delicate pink, enhancing his natural tone.

When he stands to regard himself in the mirror, he can be my worst critique. Correcting me when he doesn't look perfect. His face angles from side to side, lips pout out. I think sometimes he wishes he has breasts in these moments. His hand is smoothing over his chest.

Odin walks to Luki; his gait is steady now. No falling over. His right hand has been tied to his body, forcing him to use his left hand exclusively. Everyday Borson switches what hand he uses. Odin had gotten used to this without the protest he once had when his father restricted his limb.

Luki picks up Odin biting his cheek friendly with the Wild inside him. Odin bites him back, as hard as puppy teeth will let him.

"I'm enjoying my life." Blushing, looking down at the stitching that I have to redo because I can't seem to concentrate on anything but going back home to the Savage's arms.

The door opens roughly the Savage steps inside. He always does this while I'm with his brother barges in without knocking correctly to be let in. He looks right at us, a hard stare before he settles the ridge fur down.

Luki takes off his Silk scarf that is wrapped around his neck. I'm surprised he's not been seen in a dress yet.

"We have a message sent from the South. They are seeking our help to protect their borders. They will pay Tribute to us if we help." Borson throws the curled up paper on the table.

Luki reads it, laughing.

"An Alpha seeking help to protect his soil is no Alpha. He can't hold it; he shouldn't rule the territory." Luki throws the paper into the wood stove.

"Will you reply?" Luki looks to his brother.

"I've sent one of Morvared's birds back to the Southern land. I heard that the North might be interested in helping this Alpha."

"Greyson?" Luki spits it out in distaste. He has no love for this second born twin.

"Why would he want to help the South?"

Borson leans into his brother. "If it were me, I'd agree to help the South, and take it. Finian controls the West. Why not take it?"

"What of the East?" Luki is back to himself without the flutter of eyes.

"Greyson has a soft spot for Victoria. He could take the South and squeeze the East from top and bottom. Finian won't interfere because he hates that Abomination. The proof is within the females he sends to us."

"Could Victoria take the East?" Asking a question that holds the hope of Eta, and Orva.

"Victoria has no hope without help to take the East from her father." I've got the Savage's attention his eyes tighten.

"Victoria is sharpening her weapons around her. Don't count her out. She will take the East. I've been hearing rumors of how she is growing her army from underneath her father's nose."

"Underneath his nose. I'm sure he can smell it. The treason. He is an Alpha that is smart. His only flaw has been to let the Abomination live."

"His only fault is to torture a pup, a juvenile now a full grown female. He will not go to the Moon."

"The only reason why he won't go to the Moon is that he let Victoria live. The Moon says to kill all firstborn females. It was the Moon's test to him and he has failed. He failed the Moon, and his soul will never be held within her body. He will never see his mate; he will never see his family. He will be condemned to walk as floating soul just out of reach of the Moon's body." The Savage picks up Odin, biting his hand softly when Odin goes grab his father's face.

It makes me smile watching them together. Luki kisses Odin's head and pats his brother's. Brother's smile at one another, Borson shaking his head as Luki flutters his eyes.

I've asked the Savage if Luki has always been like this and he said since birth. Now with me, he's become himself. That was said late one night a week ago as we talk in bed together. My eyes are finally turning back to white. The blood vessels burst from the pressure within my structure not to mark my mate as Mine.

The desperation of the Wild is becoming a biting savagery within my marrow. Leaving bruises on my bones.

The Savage is laughing at Odin. His head thrown back, neck exposed and all I can think about is claiming his skin. The pressure within expands my ribs outwards now.

*

*

*

Milestones

With a pack on his back, Odin is running towards the door to our house. Excited to be back again from the summer grounds.

The Savage already has his pack off, taking mine off next. Odin takes his pack and flings it across the room. Laughing as if it's a game.

"Pick up your pack and take out what's inside it." An order that is listened to instantly. Odin has been having tantrums that only his Father can control.

The first time he threw something at my head, his father caught and threw it back at his head, not a hard hit. Just enough for Odin to understand if you throw things at your Mother, the Father will throw things back.

"How do you feel?" A warm palm on my lower abdomen, sniffing my neck. The smell of vomit still clings to my breath.

"Tired." Sitting down on the couch with no energy to move.

"Odin and I will start to unpack. When you feel rested, then help." The work is tedious for him, but I don't have the energy to move. Hours of walking today have sucked all my strength away. Feeling my lower stomach, nothing is felt yet, no rise of a Future that is clinging within my Nest.

A weighted heaviness tugs the lids down, closing my eyes for longer than a moment.

Thinking back, the wild Rye fields hid us from eyes as the heat of my body took control. Odin was able to stay with Luki for a few days, and we became one within the tall stalks. When we came back to camp, I had a Future resting with my Nest. I don't think I could be happier. A feast was given by Borson.

Fires lit, a pit dug to roast the wild boar he hunted.

Odin walked around telling everyone he is going to be a big brother. Tugging on the Males loincloths with his left hand, his right was tied the entire time in the summer grounds.

"Bessa, wake up."

Eyes blink sleep away reluctantly

"Sorry."

"That's alright. I know you're tired." His fingers brush away the hair that's sticking to my forehead.

"How much were you able to put get unpacked?"

"All of it,"

"What time is it?" Sitting up, but laying back down. The movement is spinning the lining of my stomach.

Bile is rising.

"It's early morning."

"I slept all night."

'You needed it. I could even feel how tired you were." His lips touch my forehead.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Not right now, I need to shower first." The blanket falls on the floor when I stand. His sleeping furs are not rolled up. He must have slept on the floor by me.

When I look around. The packs are gone, everything has been put away. There is breakfast on the table. When he gets up to walk away, I grab his hand.

Pulling him back to me, pressing it to my lips.

Greens meet mine.

My heart is crushing with the weight of what I am feeling.

"What's wrong, Bessa?" Eyes start to leak their salty trail down rounded cheeks.

It's hard to talk with the need to get what I want out.

He kneels, "what's the matter," his hands cup my face. Gently, thumbs stroke my cheekbones.

"Thank you for everything you do for me." I've wanted to say more to him, like the way he has been saying it to me. Over and over again, how much he loves me. I've never said it back, trying to wait for what, I'm not sure? But right now, seems perfect for me to say what my heart tells me is right.

Hugging him, we hold each other before I pull away so I can see his eyes.

Hands going to his face, lips on his lips.

My chest is open and full. Fuller than I have ever felt in my life.

"I want you to know I love you, my Savage." Even my nose is weeping, throat tightening not in misery.

Borson can't breathe, he can't swallow. His eyes trail a salty path down.

Love burns, the scorch is violent but welcomed with an open chest and a full heart. 

A snippet of Elska.

"Warson, you need to apologize to my brother now." My male makes no sound from his mouth. 

"Warson, last time I ask." Shamus is not violent he is stern with his words. Warson fails to listen to him instead he walks away.